


Moonflower

by NanakiBH



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, First Kiss, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, M/M, Murder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-18
Updated: 2016-11-18
Packaged: 2018-08-31 18:22:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8588968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NanakiBH/pseuds/NanakiBH
Summary: Blooming silently in the shadows between the buildings.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this before episode 9, then got kind of screwed when it was revealed that Isabella was actually Dead For Real. So let's just pretend that she isn't for a second. For the sake of this fic, you can even pretend that there are _multiple_ Isabellas. How fun.
> 
> All I wanted to do was write about how I wanted her to die (oh well...) and how Oz and Eddie confess their feelings.

Her gun was still smoking; a thin trail climbing listlessly toward the sky to become one with the black clouds. Her grasp relaxed and it slipped from her fingers, clattering when it hit the ground. A second later, she fell along with it. Pale cheek to the dusty street, her dead eyes stared as if still glaring in spite.

But she was dead. Finally.

She had to go and put him through hell first before he was able to drag her back there, but. At least she was dead. Having undergone so much humiliation along the way, it didn't quite feel quite as satisfying as Oswald had been hoping, but there was a silver lining to it all.

“Ed.”

His dear old bespectacled friend was still staring at his hands with an expression near to astonishment. It was like he was looking at them for some kind of confirmation. Oswald hadn't been there the first time, so he wondered if the look on Ed's face would have looked familiar to him if he had. He just watched silently as Ed rubbed his thumbs over his bare fingertips, feeling the capability of his hands and the absence within them.

His eyes went anywhere but Isabelle's lifeless form.

...'Isabella'? Whatever. It hardly mattered when that wasn't even her real name.

It must have really been something, killing _her_ twice. Oswald felt like he could relate. It had felt pretty good to kill Galavan that second time, blowing him to smithereens, but the laugh that slowly left Ed's lips and became steadily louder didn't sound like a victorious laugh.

Clutching his injured leg, Oswald struggled to stand. Blood pulsed from the bullet wound and overflowed from between his fingers as he took a step forward. His cane was too far away, flung from his grasp when he was shot. As Ed's laughing became more manic, as his hands covered his own ears to block out the sound, Oswald staggered forward with a single-minded objective. He didn't have a good leg to stand on anymore, so when his footing failed him, he stretched out his hands and caught Ed around the waist, holding on to him from behind just as much to hold him as to keep himself standing.

“You did it, Ed,” Oswald said, hearing the exhaustion evident in his own voice. “It's... It's alright now. That despicable woman won't be digging her claws into you anymore.”

Hearing his words, Ed's laughing abruptly ceased. From behind, his chest pressed against Ed's back, Oswald could've sworn he felt his shoulders tremble with something soundless. Ed's hands lowered, going down to his sides. After a few more moments of silence interrupted by the sounds of the nighttime street and their rough breathing, Ed suddenly turned around and grasped him by the shoulders.

“Oh my God. Oh- Oh my... Look at this. This isn't good. Oh my,” he fretted, frantically assessing the damage her bullet had done to his leg. Keeping one hand on his shoulder, putting the other on Oswald's waist, Ed made him sit on the ground so he could have a better look. “This is- This is because of me. You shouldn't have gotten hurt.”

Though internally thrilled to have his concern, Oswald scoffed. “Have you forgotten who I am? This is nothing.” To prove his point, he pulled himself away from Ed and kicked Isabella's body with a growl, flipping her over so she would stop staring at them.

When he looked back at Ed, he got the feeling that something still wasn't quite right. His eyes looked damp and unfocused, like all the life had been sucked out of them.

“Ed...? I'm alright. Really.”

Was it alright for him to even talk about himself? He had to wonder. As Oswald had painfully discovered, he wasn't the only thing on Ed's mind. After everything that had happened, it was probably just presumptuous to assume that Ed was genuinely concerned for him at all. That concern he thought he heard in his voice may have only been there to fool him.

Nobody cared about him. Not really. Not even Ed.

But...

No matter what karmic punishment he received for how horrible he'd been to him – for how selfish he'd been – Oswald still loved him. He couldn't stop loving him. Even if it meant his ruin, he couldn't go on, pretending like he didn't love him. Once that tender feeling infected him, he was hopelessly doomed to carry it.

So it didn't matter whether he was alright or not. He didn't matter to anyone, even himself.

But Ed still mattered. As the person who'd been there for him at his worst, who believed in him, who showed him what true love felt like, he was truly grateful. No matter how badly it stung his heart, no matter how easily it threatened to crumble him, Oswald was grateful. There was no pain greater than seeing the person he loved with such an anguished look on his face.

When Ed opened his mouth, no sound made it past his lips. He dropped his absent gaze back to his hands.

Putting his confidence in a risk, Oswald placed his hands over Ed's palms, forcing him to meet his eyes.

Ed's eyes glanced away quickly for a moment – but only a moment. The second they glimpsed Isabella's still form, they came right back, wider and more clear. “It's just like you said.” For some reason, his words hit Oswald with a feeling of apprehension. As much as he trusted him, it was within Ed's right to put those hands around his neck and strangle him too. “She had to go.” He repeated himself with clearer emphasis. “ _She_ had to go.”

Kristen, he meant.

Not Isabella, that lie masquerading as the person Ed had once loved.

“Back in the past where she can't hurt you,” Oswald agreed. But he knew he shouldn't be agreeing. He had no right to be speaking so authoritatively about how _right_ it was for her to be dead. If he'd had it his way, she would've been dead the first time. But then maybe Ed would have never known who she really was and what she intended to do to him.

That was just a small blessing. That knowledge gave him vindication, but it would have been much better if he'd had that knowledge before he went and tried to crush Ed's precious thing.

Now he was just the one who tried to steal his happiness. If he'd known that killing her would make him feel worse, then maybe he wouldn't have tried at all.

But then, if he hadn't...

It was stupid to feel grateful for his own jealousy, but if he hadn't acted so selfishly, then he knew he would have been cursing himself later for different reasons. He couldn't have simply let her have him without realizing what consequences that may have led to. Without even realizing it, he would've been handing the canary straight to the cat. No matter how he looked at it, every decision would've damned him.

The city – the world – was clearly trying to tell him that he belonged nowhere, with no one.

Ed curled his fingers, returning his grasp. Oswald tried not to get his hopes up from such a simple gesture. There was still that certain look of distress in Ed's eyes. “I am... _so_ sorry, Mr. Penguin.”

Like ten arrows to his already-bleeding heart.

“What happened to calling me 'Oswald'?” he asked, adding a halfhearted laugh to pretend like it hadn't bothered him.

Ed floundered momentarily, mouth agape. Quickly, he pushed up his glasses. “I'm sorry, I... Yes. Oswald. My apologies.” He recentered himself, straightened his back, but kept their hands joined, holding them more tightly. “I put you through such grief, and now, because of me, you're injured. I never wanted to harm you, but my stubborn attachment to the past got away with me. I don't deserve to hear your forgiveness. Truly, this is my fault.”

His fault...? Ed's?

That didn't sound right at all. For weeks, Oswald had been dodging an oppressive guilt, so, to him, only one of them was at fault and it wasn't Ed.

“That's hardly what matters right now,” he said, trying to dismiss Ed's misplaced concern for him. “Besides, it's physically impossible for me to stay mad at you. I'm not mad. I just... had a lot of feelings.”

That was the understatement of the century, probably. His entire world had been reconstructed around Ed. His feelings were many and far from uncomplicated.

Ed nodded, his eyes closed with a tight expression. “I understand. After I turned against you, I wouldn't have been surprised if you wanted me dead, so I should be grateful. I'll do my best to stay away from you from now on.”

Oswald couldn't understand what he was talking about. It was starting to feel like they were operating on two different wavelengths. The thought that they were drifting apart was enough to send him a stab of despair.

“Did you even hear me? Do you really think that you're the one to blame here now? After how we fought? After you learned the truth?” He didn't know what else to say, where to go with the painful silence that was threatening to seize his voice as Ed refused to respond.

“Yes...?” It sounded more like Ed was questioning why he would even ask. The reasons should have been self-evident. “This whole mess was started because of me. I broke a promise to you and let myself be blinded a lie – by someone who was _trying_ to separate us. Of course it's my fault. And I feel terrible. None of that should have happened.” Finally, Ed slipped his hands away and moved himself back. He stood, dusting off the back of his slacks. “I end up unwanted wherever I go. It's fine.”

Somehow, he managed to say that with a straight face, with an insulting hint of a smile. There was nothing normal about that. That shouldn't have been the usual.

That may have been the moment when Oswald finally snapped.

“You?” he asked, staring. “You think you're unwanted?”

And Ed, he just stood there, waiting, revealing his answer without voicing it.

Oswald took the last shred of his pride and crushed it. Without resistance, his most well-kept feelings clawed their way up from the depths of his heart and leapt from his tongue.

“Listen to me,” he said, slamming his fists on the ground. “Despite whatever nonsense you believe, I have no right to ask you to stay. I don't even deserve to speak another selfish word to you, but... I don't want to be alone. I need you. I need you so much, it kills me, Ed. I'm sorry. So...” Exhausted, weakly, he tried to smile for him. “Please don't go anywhere.”

For the briefest moment, a more familiar smile appeared on Ed's face, then vanished in an instant, sent off with a laugh of disbelief. “Huh. You sure about it? I hear what you're saying, but you really don't need to do anything for my sake.”

“Are you sure you heard me? You... figured out why I killed her, didn't you?”

Standing still, Ed tipped his head back and stared up at the moon. “'Love is a weakness for men like us'...” he said, his words slow and thoughtful. “I remember saying something like that once. I can't blame you for what you did when I wasn't able to follow my own advice, either. I went and foolishly fell in love again. I'm a hypocrite.”

“With her?” Oswald asked, glaring at Isabella's body. She may have been dead, but she was still able to make him burn with a dark jealousy.

Ed stared with a confusingly perplexed look, his brows together as if he were trying to carefully read his meaning. “Huh? Uh- Oh, well... You see, what happened there was-” He quickly shifted gears, starting to sound more like the cheerful, boyish Ed who Oswald was afraid had gone extinct. “Could you really call that _love?_ ” He laughed at his own words, snorting like it was some kind of joke.

“You were brainwashed,” Oswald bluntly agreed.

“I was, wasn't I? Again, my apologies. No, see, the one I actually, um... What I mean to say is- I love you, Oswald. And I'm sorry. Don't let my feelings trouble you. I'm going to get myself out of your hair now. I just- I had to say it. So. Now that's that.”

Oswald sat back on his knees and stared at him, stared through him, stared into _fucking outer space_.

“What?”

“I said I love you. And I'm sorry. I'm truly sorry. For everything. I feel so stupid.”

“No, that's-... It's fine. Really. I mean, we could've saved ourselves a whole lot of trouble if we'd told each other from the beginning, that's all.” Both of them were stupid. If he'd known Ed's feelings, maybe they could've had some fun killing Isabella together. “Wow.”

Ed was back to looking confused for some reason, though. “...Come again?”

“Oh my God, when are you going to use your ears? Are you really going to make me say it?” Judging by the look on Ed's face, yes, he was going to have to finally say it clearly for him. Ed was brilliant, but it was astounding how emotionally dense he was. The best Oswald could do was clear his throat and try to stay calm to keep the blood from rushing to his face. “Ed, I love you. If you're a hypocrite, then so am I. Despite what you told me about how love makes a man weak, I went and fell in love with you anyway. I was afraid, you know. I thought for a while that this would be my downfall – the final straw to break me – but here we are.”

“Still alive,” Ed said.

“Yes,” he said, nodding happily. He grasped the hand that Ed held out for him and stood. It was suddenly a lot easier to ignore whatever pain he was feeling. As he put his hands against Ed's chest and turned his gaze up toward him, he told him, “I think men like us can't live without love. It may make me softhearted, but I feel as though I have never fought harder in my life than when I fought for you. Maybe you _will_ be my greatest weakness, but I believe you are also my greatest source of strength.”

“That's very sweet, Oswald,” he said, placing a hand against Oswald's cheek.

It felt kind of surreal, his touch. But, at the same time, it wasn't unexpected. At that moment, nothing felt out of place. The world was strange and they were strange and Oswald was strangely used to that fact.

“I don't know what to call this,” Oswald said, letting his eyes wander to the ground as his face started to feel warmer with the thought. “Whatever it is, I like it. It makes me happy. You're very special to me, Ed, and I would be devastated if I lost you.”

In the next second, Oswald found himself enveloped in an embrace that was both tighter and warmer than any they'd ever shared before. With that simple hug, Oswald felt as though he could feel the strength of Ed's feelings for him – which was a relief. In the beginning, he thought that he'd have no problems. He loved Ed, so he thought that his own feelings would be all he needed in exchange for Ed's. He hadn't even considered how he would feel... So he thought he might have lost his chance.

“Thank you.”

Oswald patted him on the back. “That should be my line.”

Ed pulled back and looked at him with a smile. Being looked at with such an affectionate gaze was kind of embarrassing, but Oswald kept his chin up and didn't look away.

“You've got something... right here,” Ed said, lifting a hand to rub Oswald's cheek with his thumb. That damn imposter had roughed him up a bit before Ed arrived and intervened. She'd tried to act like the helpless victim, but Ed had been able to see right through her somehow. Maybe his feelings were a little more obvious in retrospect...

Ed stared at the blood on his thumb.

Watching him lick the blood off shouldn't have seemed like something so erotic, but... It really was. Enough to make Oswald's hands tighten in the front of Ed's suit jacket.

Noticing his interest, Ed let out a flustered laugh and grinned an irresistible kind of grin.

Then, that was how they shared their first kiss, with the bittersweet taste of blood smeared between their lips, with Ed's fingers along Oswald's jaw, with the moon above, and with the body of Ed's dead 'girlfriend' about two feet away.

As they parted, a kind of electricity forming in the damp humidity between them, a few drops of rain tapped them on the shoulder.

“Oh dear...”

“Not a problem,” Oswald assured. “My cane is an umbrella, remember? Fetch it for me.”

Ed looked him up and down cautiously as he backed away from him, worried that he might fall with his injured leg. He returned very quickly and opened the umbrella after a moment's fidgeting. “How romantic, sharing an umbrella.” Ed beamed. “I hope you don't mind using my arm.”

“Not at all. Quite appreciated,” Oswald said, holding on to the elbow Ed offered him.

“Um-” Ed paused, looking at Isabella's body. “What should we do about...?”

Oswald slid his free hand into his jacket and fished out his phone. He hit one of the numbers on his speed dial, waited, told them where to find the body, told them that they could do whatever the hell they wanted with it, then hung up with a smile.

“Someone will take care of it.”

Ed leaned a little closer, carefully balancing the umbrella, and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “You're always so prepared.”

That was a laugh. “Yeah, about that...” Oswald just shook his head instead. “Never mind. There are things we can talk about more at length when I don't feel like I'm about to pass out from blood loss.”

For the moment, it was enough that he'd apologized. It was enough that Ed seemed to have forgiven him and was showing him affection again. That was all great, but he still wanted to tell him later about how sorry he was for hurting him. He wanted to prove that it would never happen again.

“Righto, then. Let's go home.”

After the unnecessary amount of suffering he'd put them both through, a part of Oswald still questioned whether he deserved such happiness, but...

Well.

A king couldn't rule alone.

He was Oswald Cobblepot. He deserved the world with Edward Nygma by his side.

**Author's Note:**

> And then Oswald passed out on the way back. Good thing Ed is great at giving piggyback rides.


End file.
